she whispered, but she felt as if there was no strength in any of her bones. She was floating, floating on a sea of air, and her limbs were heavy.“Do as you’re told, imp. And drink this. It will help.”That voice. It sounded familiar. It sounded like…Blaine of Kendrick.Memory flooded back, and with a start she forced her eyes open, only to discover that she was lying in Blaine’s arms, her head lolling against his chest. Her cloak—it was gone. And her tunic—Torn. The fabric had been rent, leaving her shoulder bare but for the cloth bandage tied around it.“What did you…How dare you…”“I had to see the wound, didn’t I, to find out if it was fatal. It wasn’t, my imp. It’s barely a scratch. You’ll live—not that you deserve to,” Blaine said grimly. “You may thank me if you wish. I’ve cleaned and bound it for you while you slept.”“And what else have you done?” Panic swept over her as she gazed up at him, but he only shook his head. An amused smile touched his lips.“Nothing you would not have me do.
